


Osmium

by FairyLights101



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 01:58:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11773113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyLights101/pseuds/FairyLights101
Summary: Epiphanies don't come on the bathroom floor, much less for Kuroo - but sometimes other things do. And they're not always wanted.





	Osmium

**Author's Note:**

> Osmium - a hard, brittle, bluish-white transition metal in the platinum group, and the densest naturally occurring metal

The floor was cold underneath him, hard. There was something digging into his hip, but he didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes, didn’t shift off whatever it was. Couldn’t find the energy to do that. Could barely find the energy to breathe, and probably would’ve stopped a while ago had it not been for the fact that breathing was kind of a natural process he unfortunately couldn’t just stop and give up on and quit and  _ gods, why is it so hard?  _ Kuroo’s fingers twitched. 

_ Hydrogen. Helium. Lithium.  _

He just wanted everything to stop, to go still, just for a bit. Wanted to breathe without that all too familiar ache sitting in his chest, agonizingly heavy, so much that it felt like his chest would cave in at any second, sending ribs splintering and snapping, puncturing through muscle, fat, organs, sending blood gushing everywhere. Wanted to open his eyes and not have the familiar burn lingering in them, draining and exhausting, leaving the world behind a bland gray film he couldn’t be assed to look beyond for the most part. 

_ Beryllium. Boron. Carbon.  _

He licked his dry lips. Swallowed, too audible in the silence of his apartment. Then again, of course it was going to be dead quiet. It was the middle of the afternoon, when people who were actually useful to the world were at their jobs and schools and out, being part of a world that cared about them, making it better, brighter. And he simply festered, left it a little darker everywhere he went, draining away the light, the happiness, everything good in the world. His fingers twitched. 

_ I hope he doesn’t come back.  _ Because, in the end, he didn’t deserve those radiant, sunshine smiles or the sparkle in those golden eyes, or those huge hands cupping his face, smudging the black all over him into something more muddled - gray, melding with glittering golds and creamy whites that illuminated  _ everything.  _ Kuroo smiled. Let a ragged breath whisper through his lips. 

_ Nitrogen. Oxygen. Fluorine.  _

He didn’t deserve his friends, let alone  _ him.  _ They’d all be better off without him and all his self-destruction, an endless, despair-filled cycle that would only ruin everyone who wanted to care, who shoved their way through the briars he’d tried to wrap himself with to keep everyone out. And yet Bokuto had scorched a path through, resilient, persistent, never one to give up. But, maybe, just maybe, after everything, Bokuto had learned to stay away. That Kuroo was anything but the good person Bokuto had always built him up to be. Those praises he’d sung were nothing but lies, meaningless and empty. And, hopefully, he knew it. Knew it how Kuroo did, the truths and realities carved into his very bones, inked into his mind, permanent, unable to be scrubbed away, in every drop of blood he pried from his veins. His thighs and hips ached, faint. 

_ Neon. Sodium. Magnesium.  _

He’d messed up, again, always and forever ruining everything good. And, lately, he couldn’t make it a day before he was back at it again, crimson spilling through his fingers, staining the world with splotches of red that ran pink, then clear, beneath the pound of icy waters on his head and spine, filling his world with red, red,  _ red,  _ staining skin and his shower and the towels he dried himself with and his sheets when he tore the scabs open in the middle of the night, or when the gauze wasn’t enough. He was always messing up. Slipping further and further down a steep, slick slope with no hope of stopping. Nothing to grab on. Nothing to stop his descent towards the edge, towards the plummet into a dark sea filled with swirls of scarlet and navy, reaching up to meet him with its cloying embrace. 

_ Aluminum. Silicon. Phosphorous.  _

But it wasn’t enough. The pain, the sliver of control he sought, was never enough. Chanting the elements by atomic number, by weight, by  _ whatever _ wasn’t enough, even if he went through the whole damn thing twenty times in a desperate attempt to focus. Because, in the end, nothing was enough to claw the heavy darkness away. Nothing could break through, nothing except- _ You don’t get him anymore. You don’t deserve him.  _

Kuroo had never deserved him, but the fight two weeks before had only solidified that. The deleted voicemails and calls he ignored and the unopened texts and messages and more were all a testament. And now this, a day where he’d made is as far as his bathroom floor, staining his world with more bright, searing colors that broke through the gray, made him smile and cry, though he hadn’t quite realized it at the time. 

The floor had been cool when he’d first started laying down, but it had warmed beneath him, though even that couldn’t take away the discomfort. But it didn’t matter. He didn’t want to move. Wasn’t sure if he could. Everything was heavy, filled with a bone-deep ache that he shut away with eyes clamped tight and sealed lips and a slow chant, one that blocked out the thoughts of death and decay and destruction, ones that kept his mind off the endless wishes to stop moving, stop functioning, stop breathing, stop  _ existing.  _ Kuroo licked his lips.

_ Sulfur. Chlorine. Argon.  _

There was a knock, distant, far off. A hesitant thing, almost too soft to hear. 

His eyes slowly opened, found the bathroom ceiling swimming into focus up above him. 

A beat or two of silence, and then another knock, a little louder. A pattern that teased the edges of familiarity, brought curls of hope and self-hatred swimming up to choke him as he curled in on himself, showed his back to the bathroom door and waited for it to stop. 

He could hear the lock click, too loud in the quiet. 

His eyes snapped open. Breath caught. Fingers fluttered across his scarred arms, clinging, scratching, biting in, desperate to pretend it wasn’t real, that it wasn’t- 

“Ku… Kuroo?” 

_ Potassium. Calcium. Scandium.  _

_ Titanium. Vanadium. Chromium.  _

_ Go away. Please, gods, go away.  _

He couldn’t take it, couldn’t bear it. Didn’t want to see his face, hear his voice, catch that musky smell and fall further and further into a love doomed to fail because he was worthless, inherently so, a failure from the moment of conception, something destined to only ruin the lives of any he touched. And oh how had he ruined lives. But maybe, just maybe, if Bokuto didn’t come further in, if he didn’t search- 

Footsteps broke him out of his thoughts, and his fingers bit into his arms, vicious, cruel. “Kuroo?” Bokuto called again, voice unsteady. 

It made Kuroo’s heart twist, and he curled in a little tighter. Listened to Bokuto move throughout his apartment, sometimes calling his name softly. Chanted elements to himself. 

_ Manganese. Iron. Cobalt.  _

Fingers whispered across the door, faltering. There was a sigh. “Maybe he’s not here…” Bokuto whispered to himself. And yet the handle twisted. Turned. And Kuroo abruptly, desperately wished that he could sink through the floor, turn invisible, that something would distract Bokuto and he wouldn’t have to see the disappointment, the disgust, the unending pity in his eyes. 

The door opened. 

For a moment, nothing. 

And then a soft inhale. 

A quiet sound, familiar, one that Bokuto made in the back of his throat, right before he started to cry. There was a thump, then hands on him, too hot, too heavy, too much as they fluttered. “K-Kuroo,” he whispered, “Please, please, don’t-” 

Kuroo raised a hand and listlessly shoved Bokuto’s hands back, snatched his arm back, away from that searing skin that he’d craved so desperately for so long. “Don’t,” he whispered, gravelly. 

A sniffle scraped across his ears, and he curled in even further, dug his elbows into the fresh wounds, relishing in the pain that was sharp, clarity-bringing as it swept through his mind in a sweet, dizzying rush.  _ More. I want more.  _ Because maybe then the agony inside could seep out and go somewhere else. Maybe his control over it could make things a little better. Maybe- 

“I’m sorry,” Bokuto whispered. “I just… I needed to know if you were alright. You were saying such scary things, and-” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Kuroo hissed as he shoved himself up, scooted away from Bokuto until his back was pressed to the wall, legs curled in tight. With the way Bokuto’s eyes widened, he knew he’d seen. Seen the scarlet trails he’d left on his skin, seen the ruin and destruction wrought to his pale skin, the testament to the swirls of hatred, streaks of black and red that curled through him, carving their paths across his body and leaving nothing but an empty ache behind. 

_ Don’t look at me. I’m disgusting. I’m pathetic.  _ So fucking pathetic. Worthy of nothing, let alone  _ him.  _ Bokuto sank onto his heels, golden eyes frantically fluttering, blinking away tears, too many fucking tears.  _ Gods, aren’t I just a piece of shit?  _

But Kuroo bit his tongue. Looked away. “Kenma shouldn’t have given you that key,” he mumbled. 

“They’re worried about you,” Bokuto breathed. He crept a little closer. “We all are.” 

Kuroo threw his head back, weak laughter bubbling out as he pressed back, spine biting into the wall, nowhere to go. “You shouldn’t,” he snapped, “You shouldn’t give a damn about me, not-” Not when he was a ticking time bomb, bound to eventually off himself at any moment because he couldn’t function like a normal human being, couldn’t even hope to, and gods had he tried so hard for so fucking long. And, if they stayed close, they’d only get burned, scorched by his darkness and despair. 

Kuroo’s toes curled, scraped against the cold tiles and dug into the cracks as he clung to a pitifully weak glower pointed at Bokuto. But that didn’t deter him, not like it had the other day when Kuroo had been spitting venom at him, when the world had collapsed around his ears. His nails bit into his knees. Drifted down, teasing the edges of the ruin lying atop his thighs. He wanted to delve in, to bring fresh blood and pain searing to the forefront, wiping away all that apathy, bringing clarity with every breath. 

But he didn’t. Because he didn’t want to see Bokuto cry any more, didn’t want Bokuto to see more of  _ that _ side of him. Just didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to see more disappointment and pity and concern and all those emotions he wanted to slap off Bokuto’s face, wanted to kiss away and pretend that there was nothing to worry over, that he was fine, whole, not shattered into thousands of pieces and holding himself together by thousands of fragile, fraying strings. 

Bokuto eased a little closer. Swallowed and licked lips bitten red and raw, blood lingering in the crevices. When Kuroo didn’t react, he moved forward again. “Tetsurou…” 

His eyes shut tight, lips pursing.  _ I don’t want this. I don’t want to hear.  _ Because, maybe, if he heard Bokuto’s voice, a part of him would want to try and undo all the things he’d done, make amends and beg for forgiveness and hope, pray, that Bokuto would take it in a stride, hug him tight, whisper that it was okay, that everything was going to be okay. But things weren’t going to be okay, they never were, and he knew that. 

If only Bokuto could realize it. 

_ Nickle. Copper. Zinc.  _

“Tetsurou… Gods, Tetsu, ‘m so  _ sorry. _ ” Bokuto sounded  _ broken,  _ wrecked, and it brought Kuroo’s eyes to him, wide, unsure, as he blinked at Bokuto, saw those beautiful golden eyes fill with tears. “I didn’t… I should’ve asked more, should’ve known, should’ve-  _ fuck,  _ I’m such an idiot… Tetsu, it’s okay, I’m not… ‘m not mad at you. I promise. Just… let me be here with you. I-I don’t have to talk, we don’t even have to touch, just-” His words melted together, slick, too quick, but they were painfully audible, catching Kuroo and spinning him in gossamer webs of gold and white, warm, secure. Ones that lulled him forward until he pitched onto his hands and knees, crossed that distance, and shoved Bokuto down onto the floor. 

It was easy to let his arms buckle, just a little - he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten a proper meal, or at all really. And sinking into that warmth, the familiarity of his embrace was like coming home, a place that felt so  _ right,  _ even with the guilt that tore at his gut as his fingers crept up, pressed their way into Bokuto’s cheeks as he nosed his way forward, blind. 

_ Don’t do this. You’re just gonna regret this, you asshole.  _

But he still leaned in, pressed their lips together, hesitant, scared, before he shoved it all down, focused on the warmth beneath him, not on how Bokuto wasn’t quite breathing, or on how his hands hadn’t come up to touch him. He just moved.

_ Gallium. Germanium. Arsenic.  _

Kissed Bokuto like he was starving. And he was, ravenous for everything about that stupidly beautiful man, from those faintly stubbly cheeks to his crooked nose to his wild, soft hair, gel lingering where he hadn’t washed it all out. To the hands that closed around his hips, squeezing him tight as Bokuto whimpered, more tears streaming down his face, smudging sunshine yellow onto Kuroo’s skin as he pressed closer, traced his tongue along Bokuto’s lips, focused on that, not the ache in his legs, the agony that pumped through his heart, the way the world spun, dizzying, somehow all centered around the idiot he’d pinned to the ground. 

_ Selenium. Bromine. Krypton.  _

_ Don’t let this end.  _ If it ended, it would all certainly crumble apart, leaving him in the dust and rubble he’d made. Bokuto would leave, never look back, disgusted and disappointed in the truth behind the façade he’d tried to cling to until it had all become too much, until- 

Hands were on his face, gently pushing, and Kuroo couldn’t bite back the sob that threatened to burst out, even as he let them push him away, trembling, a burn filling his eyes, leaving him shaking as he looked away, hid his face behind greasy bangs and the tilt of his head into his shoulder.

_ Rubidium. Strontium. Yttrium.  _

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t focus, could barely see as gold and black and white swam in his vision. Warmth bloomed on his skin, breaking through the cold. Whispers in his ears. Breaths, ragged, scraping across lungs and a throat too small, too tight. Lips moved. 

_ Zirconium. Yttrium. Rubidium. Zirconium.  _

A gasp. Shook his head. 

_ Can’t. I can’t. Zirconium. Zirconium. Strontium. Tin.  _ Out of order. Incoherent.  _ Wrong, wrong, wrong.  _ Always wrong, always breaking things, always- 

_ “Tetsurou.”  _

He sucked down a breath, a sharp shock of cold clarity, and he blinked madly, refound those wild eyes on him. 

“In for five Tetsu, c’mon.” 

His mouth opened and closed like a fish but he nodded. Sucked down a breath through his nose. Too quick, not long enough, but Bokuto smiled, squeezed his shoulders encouragingly. 

That smile spread wider when he managed to hold it, even for just a few seconds, as his body trembled, threatened to give way beneath him. He just nodded frantically, watched Bokuto’s lips move, watched the slow curve of those black lashes, the way his white-gray brows scrunched together, wrinkles forming whenever he narrowed his eyes in focus. 

He didn’t know how long it took, just that it took a painfully long time for his body to give one final shudder, for him to melt forward into those waiting hands that caught him with ease, wrapping around his arms, his body, and pulling him close. 

“You’re okay. You’re okay, I promise,” Bokuto breathed. 

Kuroo could only stare past him, blind, barely feeling the warmth.

_ Zirconium. Niobium. Molybdenum.  _

He wasn’t okay. But with those arms wrapped around him, with Bokuto’s soft voice in his ears, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could fool himself into thinking that, even if only for a while. Even if it only lasted until those doors shut and he was alone again, back to sink into his own thoughts, the despair that always threatened to swallow him whole.  _ But for now, I guess it’s okay. For now.  _

He closed his eyes. Sank further into Bokuto’s embrace. Buried his hands into Bokuto’s shirt and clenched it tight, though even that couldn’t hide the tremor in his hands. 

_ Technetium. Ruthenium. Rhodium. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, if you liked leave a comment and hit me up at [tumblr](http://fairylights101writes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
